


Taming

by NancyBrown



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, M/M, Porn Battle, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/pseuds/NancyBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock likes to watch John and Mary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taming

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV, prompts: voyeurism, hormones, watching

Sherlock watches.

What frightens John most is that it's Mary's idea. He's not mad enough to blame hormones. He's not brave enough to ask if she's done this before. He's enamoured. He's agreeable.

He doesn't know what Sherlock gets out of this. John's mouth is on Mary's, enjoying the knowing movement of her lips. He watches Sherlock past her cheek, sees him sitting fully clothed in the chair, fingers folded in front of himself like a schoolboy, like an altar boy.

Mary's impatient, tugging at John's shirt. She yanks the hem from the waistband of his trousers, stretching the fabric too far as she jerks the shirt up his torso. Her fingernails rake down his bared chest. John pauses to peel his own shirt away before fumbling with her buttons. "Tear them," she mutters, but he persists, unfastening each pearl. Behind her, he can hear the soft whisper of his best friend's breaths at the release of every buttonhole. Mary's wearing a white bra, lace and silk, which dampens and darkens as John covers one breast's swell with his mouth.

"Like that," she sighs, when his hands reach up to caress the other breast.

He doesn't know when Sherlock rises from the chair. John senses his heat standing behind him, not touching. Sherlock doesn't like touching, not sexual touching, not this. But he's so close John can smell him as he bites at Mary's bra. Her tits have become so sensitive over the last few months. He can only imagine how she'll be after the baby comes, rocking in her chair nursing and fighting back her own orgasms at each suck.

His brain stutters as Mary seems to pick up on that thought, falling a bit clumsily to her knees and pulling down his zip. She has some trouble removing his cock from his trousers, because he's hard, he's so hard with Mary's hands on him, and Sherlock breathing on his neck. When she draws John's cock deep into her mouth with a satisfied chuckle, he embarrasses himself with his own moans.

One hand, firm, presses against the small of his back, burning the skin there. John shudders forward against Mary, almost choking her, stumbles back against the hand, longing for the touch.

"This is new," he manages to say, earning another chuckle from his wife which tickles over his cock and down to his balls. She swallows him down then. John doesn't have room in his head to think, only to experience the warm wet of her mouth, the hot dry of his hand.

Every night is closer than the last. Last night he sat in the green wing-backed back, hands folded demurely in his lap as John fucked into Mary. The night before, he watched from the doorway as Mary impaled herself and rode John. Tonight there is just the hand...

...and the softest lips John has ever felt whispering against the back of his neck.

Mary hums, and John shouts and shouts as he comes, trapped between the two of them forever.


End file.
